Ribbon
by Sheba the Lone Wolf
Summary: While Riku is lost in his memories of how he met Zahara, her fingers are busily working on a project of her own. Riku/OC, fluff, one-shot.


**Disclaimer: Sheba the Lone Wolf does not own Kingdom Hearts. She does, however, own Zahara.**

**Pairing: Riku/OC. Don't like, don't read.**

**A/N: SEVERE writer's block has driven me out of my right mind, so I'm going to write a RikuxZahara one-shot to satisfy my boredom. For one reason or another, KB2 is giving me no end of trouble, so…updates are slower than usual. D: Don't you just _love _writer's block?**

**Constructive criticism and encouraging comments are welcomed and encouraged. Flamers will be blocked. End of story.**

**Ribbon**

The beach was quiet, its silence shattered by nothing but the soft murmurings of the seagulls as they settled down for the evening, occasionally fluttering from one tree to the next in search of a comfortable perch, and the distant lapping of the waves against the bleached white shore. The sun was beginning to sink beneath the horizon, staining the sky and the sea with a palette of warm colors.

Leaning against a palm tree, whose trunk had morphed into a seemingly impossible bend with its broad leaves extending over the sea below, Riku stood with crossed arms, his silver bangs shielding his face from the sun. His ice blue eyes were invisible behind his pale curtain of hair, hiding the distant glaze that indicated he was lost in thought. The gleam of the ocean beneath the setting sun, the colorful array of the sunset, the gentle movements of the rising tide…it was all too reminiscent of the night when he had first met _her_.

She was, by far, the strangest person he had ever met, but her differences, no matter how alarming they might have been, no longer bothered him in the least. She had a style that was all her own, and her appearance was beyond a little unique. Nonetheless, he liked her. Though once temperamental and aggressive, she had long since morphed into a gentle girl that was almost…sweet.

_Sweet_, he pondered. It was a good adjective to describe her, he decided. She was never anything but willing to lend a hand in a tough situation, and her loyalty to him was astounding.

On a fateful night, he had stumbled across a wounded, bleeding teenager, curled against a stray boulder on the beach as the tide lapped at her battered body, stained crimson as it withdrew. Riku had decided he had no choice but to offer his help by calling a medic as he gathered her into his arms, but the mere suggestion had left him thrown to the ground by a seemingly helpless girl. He would never forget the overwhelming flood of surprise that crashed over him as he blinked, his face three inches from that of a massive, snarling wolf.

It had taken Riku all of ten seconds to discover the darkest secret of the girl he had attempted to rescue. Later on, he would learn that it was a secret she often spoke aloud, confessing to whoever was listening what she truly was: a werewolf. The fact had startled Riku at first, but he had soon overcome his initial fear of the hostile girl who could burst into an unearthly large wolf whenever she pleased.

Five minutes later, Riku had learned an even darker secret of the teenager he had carried home to care for, despite the fact she had just given him the shock of his life. When he had discarded a set of striped arm warmers plastered to her forearms, he had been faced with a too-distinctive pattern of scars and fresh, still seeping gashes. The straight, clean cuts were recognizable wounds from a knife. She had suffered a ridiculous amount of damage, all inflicted by herself.

His better side revealing itself, Riku had allowed the teen to rest in his house for several weeks, in part to allow her wounds to heal, and in part to keep a close eye on her and assure himself no further damage was done. A month came and passed, before she at last told him her name: Zahara. She had arrived on Destiny Islands after a life of pain and suffering, bits and pieces of emotional agony leading her to harm herself on a regular basis.

Time had passed and, as her bond with Riku grew, Zahara had changed. Riku himself had secretly longed for companionship after Kairi had left to join Sora on his never-ending quest to vanquish the Heartless, though he would never admit it to anyone but himself. Zahara had provided a chance for friendship, however difficult it might prove, and she had eventually accepted his camaraderie. With time, she had grown fond of him, her personality growing mellower and mellower with each passing day she spent at his side, always eager to obey any command he might have. She developed a strange, unyielding loyalty for Riku, a sign of the distant canine instincts lurking within the depths of her stomach.

The soft crunching of sand beneath feet freed Riku from his trance. He glanced over his shoulder and smiled.

Zahara was an alabaster-skinned girl, tall and slender and almost beautiful, regardless of her unique appearance. Her smooth, jet black hair, every strand a thread of fine silk, was cut and styled into a stack. Long bangs, their tips stained hot pink, fell into her pale face, hiding one exotic, fuchsia eye from view. Beneath each glittering eye, two pools of bright magenta framed by tiny, black feathers that made up her delicate eyelashes, a quartet of hot pink tattoos laid, each minute dot growing smaller as it drew nearer the inner corner of her eye. A larger tattoo, depicting the head of her wolf embodiment, marked the back of her neck, though it was seldom noticed. A trio of silver studs pierced the rim of her left ear, two diamond studs and a silver hoop in her opposite. A tight, black top and skinny jeans adhered her sensual curves, her dark-colored pants framing long, slender legs.

As she approached, Zahara smiled, her mildly sharp teeth snowy white through parted lips, smooth and pastel pink. As she drew nearer, Riku noticed a length of bright red ribbon twined between her sleek fingers.

"What are you doing out this late?" Riku prompted.

"I was just out for a walk when I caught your scent," she replied, grinning as she brushed past him to lean against the malformed palm tree. "I usually go for a walk after dark, but I came out a little earlier than usual tonight. You never notice because you're usually asleep by the time I leave."

"What do you do when you're out so late?" he asked.

She shrugged, twisting the ribbon between her fingers. "I like to phase and run around a little. It makes me feel…free, I guess. It's a wolf thing. You wouldn't understand."

Riku listened to her response, before returning his attention to the setting sun. He was so transfixed in what remained of the sunset, he was completely unaware of the deft work of her sly fingers, winding the length of blood red ribbon around his toned bicep.

"So, what's it like being a werewolf?" Riku inquired.

"Hmm." Zahara pondered how she could respond to his question. "Well, it's not much different from being human, I guess. We're a little faster, stronger, the works. But, really, humans and werewolves aren't too different."

There was a moment of quiet, her fingers never ceasing their careful work, before Riku spoke, "Zahara, do werewolves ever fall in love with humans?"

She paused and glanced at him before answering, "Yes, but it's very rare, almost unheard of." Curiously, she added, "Why do you ask?"

"No reason," he replied. "I was just wondering."

Abruptly, Riku's attention was caught by a sharp tugging against his bicep. He glanced at his arm, his eyes widening. Zahara had wound the length of ribbon around his arm, the end of it caught between her front teeth as she tugged at it gently. Taking the ribbon from her lips, she planted a swift kiss on his bicep and finished tying a bow around his arm.

"But," Zahara whispered. "It seems this is one of those rare occurrences."

Placing a final kiss on his arm, she withdrew her hands from his bicep. For a fraction of a second, Riku met her exotic gaze, before she turned and left him with his thoughts. He watched her until she vanished into the distance, heading home for the night, before he glanced down at his arm. She had carefully tied a bright red bow around his bicep. For a long, quiet minute, he stared at the bow in wonder, pondering her parting words, until the realization suddenly hit him.

It was a love knot.

He gasped. Zahara was a shy, timid type of person, yet she had just confessed her affection for him through her simple act. Even if she hadn't spoken the words aloud, her confession was daring. Fingering the flawless, red bow tied around his bicep, he closed his eyes and imagined a future with Zahara. The adulation gleaming in her exotic eyes, the relentless loyalty, the constant companionship…it was all his, a simple gift from her.

Smiling, Riku climbed onto the trunk of the palm tree, outstretching his arms to balance himself as he proceeded towards its leaves. Drawing nearer to his target, he straddled the trunk and slid further down, before at last burying a hand in the leaves. Grinning to himself, he carefully plucked a paopu fruit from the tree and proceeded to leave.

* * *

Zahara awakened to the familiar sights and smells of Riku's living room, her head rested against her pillow and a thin sheet draped loosely over her waist and torso, her bare feet rested on the farthest arm of the sofa. As she blinked her tiredness from her eyes, yawning as she stretched, a new, unfamiliar scent hit her nose and she paused.

A paopu fruit, only two of its points exposed, was carefully tucked behind her pillow. Taking the star-shaped fruit in one hand, Zahara smiled, glancing at Riku's bedroom door with a knowing grin in her eyes.

She crept into Riku's bedroom, walking on silent feet to where he slept quietly on his bed, the sheets discarded in a disarranged heap at its foot. Smiling, she brushed a stray lock of hair from his face, trailing her fingers along his jawbone. Adoration glistening in her eyes, she gently tucked the paopu fruit against his collarbone.

Leaving Riku to rest, Zahara quietly left for the bathroom, her jaws parting in another yawn as she prepared herself for her morning shower. Glancing at her reflection in the mirror, she froze. A lock of her hair had been carefully twined with a bright red ribbon, its ends meeting in a delicate bow.

**A/N: Writer's block ate my soul. o_o And it upsets me! I don't have much to say so…your dirt is full of shoe. Review and stuff. **

**::Sheba:: **


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